


Good Intentions

by rikyl



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Eagleton, F/M, Road Trip, Season 3, the fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rikyl/pseuds/rikyl
Summary: Was Chris Traeger really that oblivious, or just the world's most inept matchmaker? A Chris POV fic that takes place from Eagleton to Road Trip.Originally posted on LJ.





	

“Ben, could you come in here for a moment?” Chris called through the open door, and a second and a half later Ben dutifully appeared. “We’ve got a situation with Eagleton.”

“Oh, yeah, Leslie mentioned something about that. They fenced off a park?”

“Exactly,” Chris replied, thrilled that his right-hand man was already up to speed. “I’ve put Leslie in charge of dealing with it. She’s going to meet with the Eagleton parks director and attend a public forum. I’m sure she’ll do a wonderful job, but I think it would be best for someone else to tag along.”

Ben kind of perked up, which seemed unusual for Ben. Way to go, Ben!

“Oh … yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he said, nodding his head agreeably.

“It is, and you’re great for recognizing that it’s a good idea. But Ron says he can’t show his face in Eagleton for personal reasons. Would you mind filling in for me at the meeting with the library board so I can take care of this?”

Ben furrowed his brow and shifted his weight. “Are you sure? I mean, I could take the parks thing if you want. You don’t have to change your schedule.”

There was a hint of eagerness in his voice that delighted Chris; Pawnee really seemed to be having a stellar effect on his usually dour partner. Ben had never been as personally involved anywhere as he had become in Pawnee: all the public forums he had volunteered to co-run, and the tireless effort he’d put into the Harvest Festival, not to mention all the other parks projects he’d insisted on helping out with.

But Chris also felt that certain tasks were better suited to certain people, and Ben was extremely well suited for tasks that kept him out of the public eye. It was the wonderful division of labor that had worked for this partnership for so many years. Why mess with what works?

“That’s wonderful of you to offer, Ben, but I think it’s going to take a light touch, a certain flair for 'he,' if you will,” Chris said, referring to the Chinese concept of harmony and diplomacy that guided much of his own public interactions.

“I have a light touch,” Ben insisted quickly, and Chris couldn’t help laughing affectionately at his coworker while clasping his shoulder briefly.

But there was something about Ben’s demeanor just then, it gave Chris a distinct feeling of déjà vu: the hands shoved in the pockets, eyebrows raised slightly, the almost over-casual but too-quick response. It reminded Chris of the way Ben had jumped at the chance to sub on an office softball team a few years back—of course, it turned out he just had a crush on Joanne Bingham, the brainy brunette who played first base. It was a look Ben had gotten more than a few times lately, every time that—

Suddenly Chris connected the dots. Dozens of dots over several months, and at the center of them all … was a woman. Of course.

“That’s a wonderful idea, Ben. You and Leslie work so well together. I’ll keep my appointment with the library board, and you … you have a good time today.”

Ben smiled, one of those rare smiles that actually showed teeth, and went back to his office. Chris gazed after him a moment, feeling conflicted.

\--

It was about a year and a half before their assignment in Pawnee—so that would make it November 2008—that Chris had noticed Ben shuffle in a little late to the Indy office, take the framed photo of Joanne off his desk, and shove it in a drawer. His clothes seemed rumpled, his hair more askew than usual, and Chris had the urge to reach out to him immediately. He resisted, trying to give Ben his space. Ben always valued his space.

But he worried over it for half the morning. He just couldn’t stand to see Ben unhappy, and he had seemed so happy with Joanne! She was smart, soft-spoken and serious—very much like Ben, and that must be why they got along so well. They had even lived together for a while, or at least Ben had been staying with her for the bursts they were in Indianapolis.

Come to think of it, Ben always seemed to be living with someone—if not a girlfriend, then he’d be crashing with a coworker or a college friend in between road trips. For someone who purported to keep people at arm’s length, Ben incongruously managed to always keep them, literally, within arm’s reach. Deep down, Chris suspected that Ben truly enjoyed people quite a bit more than he let on. Beneath that harsh exterior was a definite soft spot.

A soft spot for Joanne, in particular.

Maybe it was something that could be fixed. Maybe Ben needed someone to talk to Joanne for him. Or maybe Ben just needed someone to talk to himself. A friend. Chris liked to think they were friends, even though he wasn’t sure if Ben saw him that way.

When he tapped lightly on the open door to Ben’s office, the other man didn’t look up, just sighed and kept typing with overly decisive keystrokes. Chris let himself in and lightly put what was meant to be a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Do you want to get a beer?” He rarely imbibed—the thought of all those empty calories and system depressants made him shudder—but some things transcended dietary restrictions, and Ben’s welfare was one of them.

“It’s 10:30 in the morning,” Ben growled.

“You seem like you could use a beer.”

After a long pause, Ben pushed his chair back from his desk. “Yeah … okay.”

At the bar down the street, they drank for several minutes in silence, and a few times Ben drew in a breath like he might be about to say something but always stopped short.

“She seemed nice,” Chris ventured finally.

“Yeah, she was. Really nice,” Ben sighed into his beer, looking a little lost. He tipped the bottle forward and stared straight down into it, and when he spoke again Chris wasn’t sure if he was still talking to him, or just thinking out loud. “She wanted me to stop traveling. She thought I should take a job in the private sector. She just didn’t get why …” He paused, blowing upward at the hair that was falling over his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “She just didn’t get … why.”

Chris didn’t know quite what that meant, but he nodded quietly. Confessional Ben was like a skittish animal, best treated extremely delicately, no sudden movements.

“She didn’t vote,” Ben said abruptly after a few minutes had gone by. “Said she just got busy and forgot. She went to bed early because she was getting up to run in the morning, and I watched the election returns by myself. First black president, and I’m looking around, I’ve got nobody to high five. Nobody to make love to.”

Ben cracked a sad smile suddenly, laughing quietly. “I think I would have turned my life upside down for her if she had just remembered to vote.”

It was the last time either of them mentioned Joanne, but Chris kept that in mind, filed it away in his mental catalogue of Ben’s preferences—coffee with two sugars, tall brunettes who voted—and waited for the time when he might be able use it.

\--

And now, Chris thought to himself, Ben liked Leslie.

Ben liked Leslie.

Now that he had finally figured it out, he could have kicked himself. It was so obvious! How had he not picked up on this before?

He had known Ben had an interest in someone in city government, but he hadn’t asked who. He knew his friend well enough not to pry into his personal business; Ben would tell him if he wanted to, and usually he didn’t. But come to think of it, there were not many single women working in Pawnee City Hall. As city manager he knew pretty much everyone; in spite of his rule and his own intentions to follow it, Chris would have noticed any single, smart, beautiful women among his staff. And it would have to be someone smart and beautiful—and amazing—because Ben was an exceptional catch who deserved nothing less.

Chris knew he used positive adjectives pretty liberally—and why not, everyone had something to be said for them—but with Ben, he really truly—literally, okay?—he meant every word of it. Ben was honest, hardworking, decent, and he was quietly passionate in a way that you seldom see in government. Chris genuinely thought the world of him, and he could not ask for a better partner.

So … Leslie. Now that was a surprise. He wasn’t personally attracted to her, but he could see how some might find her attractive. Ben found her attractive? Chris puzzled over that—he’d never once seen Ben fall for a blonde. A petite blonde, at that. But she was smart, and capable, and nice, and based on her office décor, Chris was pretty sure she voted in every election.

But she was bubbly and outgoing where Ben was serious and reserved, and it wasn’t exactly that they were wrong for each other, but it wasn’t who Chris would have picked for him at all. He felt like Ben wasn’t just looking for someone who voted—taken literally, that seemed a little specific—but someone who understood him better than Joanne had. So how had he fallen for someone whose personality seemed practically opposite?

It was probably just a fleeting attraction, a momentary interest in otherness that would pass as Ben realized how incompatible they were on a basic level. Chris told himself that given time, the crush would run its course, and then he’d help Ben find someone more compatible.

\--

The thing was, considering events of recent months, Chris was starting to wonder if he had the art of matchmaking mastered after all. Traveling around, he had enjoyed different types of women, all amazing people, parting ways amicably when he invariably had to move on. Now that he was staying in one place long enough to have the possibility of something more substantial, he was increasingly starting to think that the human heart was a little more complicated than matching tabs X, Y, Z to slots 1, 2, and 3.

After his breakup with Ann, Chris spent long evenings sitting at his dining-room table and staring at the black and white painting, the first piece of artwork he’d hung up in his new Pawnee home. It was of the classic yin-yang symbol, something co-opted in popular culture to the point of practically being meaningless, but the idea never lost its power for Chris. He was always striving for that perfect balance in everything in his life, and in most ways he felt like he’d achieved it.

He didn’t understand what had gone wrong with Ann, why he’d steadily lost interest in someone who had seemed ideally matched to him, but he felt like if he stared at that painting long enough, he might eventually come up with the answer. To him, that image seemed to hold the answer to everything, and it was only up to him to discern it.

The strange truth was, he had never been more attracted to Ann than on that first night when she drunkenly pulled him away from the bar. From that moment and for the rest of the evening, she repeatedly surprised him, from her thoughts on turning down a marriage proposal to her lively rendition of “Danger Zone” to the passionate kiss she gave him before getting into the taxi.

She seemed lively and unpredictable, messy and vivacious, and Chris didn’t understand why that appealed to him so much. He valued balance, maturity, plans, rules. But he felt compelled to pursue her enthusiastically for the rest of the summer. Every time she said no—a word that, admittedly, he wasn’t used to hearing—he only wanted her more.

Until she said yes, and then kept saying yes, following his lead in everything, until the lines between them blurred to the point of pointlessness.

It seemed like it should have been a good thing when the woman he liked turned out to share so many of his interests and agreed with him on so much of what was important to him. All the tabs fit in all the right slots, and yet something was still off.

He felt like he’d been following the plans for the wrong model, and he didn’t know what the right one was supposed to look like.

\--

If Ben was his right hand, Chris was starting to think of Leslie as his left. She was like a creative tornado of energy and enthusiasm, and all he had to do was point her toward a task and watch her unleash her abundant resources to demolish it—in a good way, of course.

Usually.

The thing was, Leslie was a little unpredictable, and she seemed to need someone level-headed to reign her in. Increasingly when he was thinking of people to team up for an important task, Chris thought of Ben and Leslie. Where Leslie could be impulsive and imprudent, Ben was responsible and cautious. But where Ben was too unyielding, Leslie made up for it with her passion and creativity.

They seemed to balance each other out so well professionally—in the same way that Chris felt he and Ben balanced each other out, all those years on the road. They had become his dynamic duo.

So when he needed two people he trusted to make a hiring recommendation for the opening in the health department, he once again thought of Ben and Leslie.

He was a little surprised when his “dynamic duo” showed up to the meeting out of breath and appearing to be holding back giggles.

“What’s this, you two?” Chris greeted them cheerfully. “Did someone take the citywide health initiative to heart?”

He registered the tiny snicker that Leslie quickly turned into a cough, the vaguely caught look that passed across Ben’s face as he flicked his eyes from Leslie to Chris.

“We were … trying not to be late,” Ben said, and gulped audibly.

“Oh, well … I appreciate that,” Chris responded, feeling like there was an inside joke here that he wasn’t party to. Oh, well, he was glad they were having their fun, whatever it was. “You know I value punctuality.”

By the time their meeting ended, Chris felt good that he’d picked the right two people for this important task. Leslie had been overflowing with ideas about the kind of person who would be best for the job, as well as how that person could better coordinate with the parks department in the future. Ben had put forth all the practical considerations, such as adhering to a transparent hiring process and taking the opportunity to re-evaluate salary and benefits for the position.

As they disappeared down the hallway afterward, Chris could hear the pieces clicking together in the disappearing tones of their conversation.

Those two, he thought affectionately. They worked so well together, he even found himself coining terms for the partnership, like the media sometimes do for two people who are associated with each other. Benslie. Beslie. Lesben. Lesliemin? Hee.

Amused at his own cleverness, it suddenly struck him that such monikers usually refer to romantic partnerships, not professional relationships.

And he wondered. Just … wondered.

\--

The next morning, Ben arrived at work looking more disheveled and sickly than Chris had ever seen him. For a moment Chris flashed back to his friend’s breakup with Joanne.

Except that when Ben had broken up with Joanne, he’d never looked that bad.

“Is everything okay, Ben?” he ventured cautiously.

Ben looked at him with dead eyes and answered flatly, “Snake juice,” then winced sharply as if the effort of speaking had momentarily dislodged his will to live.

Chris held out a bottle of appropriate vitamin pills, not expecting Ben to take it. In all of their years of working together, Ben had never once accepted an offer of a supplement, no matter how much Chris had extolled their virtues.

Ben rolled his eyes but took the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and popped one of the large pills into his mouth. Chris flinched as Ben appeared to swallow it dry, then accepted the bottle back, more worried than ever.

For once at a loss for words, Chris returned to his office and tried to focus on work and leave Ben alone, as he obviously wanted. But his concern nagged at him. He’d only ever seen Ben drink in moderation, never to the point of nursing a violent hangover in the morning. And the thought of the effects dehydration were wreaking on Ben’s body at this very moment made his shudder.

Grabbing a bottle of an electrolyte-rich hydration beverage from his mini-fridge, Chris slipped back into Ben’s office. Ben accepted it with a flicker of a grateful smile, then returned his attention to his work.

But Chris hesitated. It seemed that Ben’s physical condition was only half the problem.

“Ben … are you happy here?” he asked suddenly.

With some visible effort, Ben dragged his eyes up to focus on Chris. “What?”

“I was just wondering if you’re happy here—in Pawnee.”

For a moment, Ben just looked annoyed, for being bothered with such a question when he was in such a mood. But then he turned thoughtful, considering it as if it was exactly the question he needed to answer just then.

“I think so. I thought I was. I’m …” He shook his head. “I don’t know, Chris. I don’t know.”

Without thinking, Chris gave him the first advice that popped into his head. “You should go talk to Leslie.”

And then he tried to think of why he’d suggested it. Because Leslie seemed like the person mostly likely to cheer Ben up. Because Chris had a vague unexplained feeling that Leslie was the problem, accompanied by the similarly mysterious hunch that Leslie would also somehow be the solution.

An extremely subtle array of expressions passed across Ben’s face as he considered the suggestion, until it settled on flat realization. “Oh, right. The health department interviews.” Just as quickly, he shifted into dutiful employee mode. “Don’t worry about it, Chris. I’m just going to hydrate, and I’ll be on top of it. We … we’ll take care of it.”

Chris considered him for a moment, as Ben looked like he thought he was going to be reprimanded for irresponsible drinking or something.

Feeling a burst of warmth toward the other man, he put a reassuring hand on Ben’s shoulder, resisting the compulsion to hug him.

“I know you will, Ben. I know you will.”

\--

Maybe Chris shouldn’t have been surprised that Ann had turned out to be such an excellent candidate for the job that Ben and Leslie were charged with filling.

Maybe “surprised” wasn’t the right word, considering his high opinion of her. It was just an unexpected reminder of what a capable, multifaceted individual Ann was. It was evidence that there was so much more to her than the more docile sides he had seen when they were dating.

And it was attractive. As she left her final job interview, he felt the same tug in his gut that he’d felt seeing her dance so wantonly at Tom’s Snake Juice party. He wondered if they tried again, under different circumstances, if she’d be able to exhibit more of that side of her while in a relationship with him.

It was too bad she would be working for him now, so that pursuing her again wasn’t even an option.

It wasn't, was it?

In the case of Ben and Leslie, he was starting to waver.

\--

The thing about the rules was that Chris didn’t just make them up to toy with people. Especially people whom he considered to be his friends. Or, friend—singular. (As likable as he considered himself to be and as many pleasant acquaintances as he had, if he was being truthful with himself, Ben seemed to be his one genuine friend.)

He knew how detested some of his rules were, and how unpopular it had the potential to make him among his own staff. But there were ethical issues at stake. He was their boss, but who was his boss? Well, the mayor and the city council, of course, but ultimately, the residents of Pawnee who paid their taxes, who entrusted the city staff to perform their duties well and uphold certain standards.

Interoffice romance was frowned upon even in the private sector, especially when it happened between a supervisor and a subordinate, when there were raises, performance evaluations, and promotions at stake. Could the supervisor continue to be fair and objective in that kind of relationship? And if the relationship came to light, wouldn’t everything the supervisee had achieved be called into question?

In the public arena, these issues were only magnified. If it came to light that an assistant city manager was romantically involved with a department head, questions would immediately be broached about the handling of taxpayer money. Was one department being favored simply because of who was sleeping with whom? With or without his own rule, it could result in a huge scandal that likely would damage the reputations of everyone involved.

So there were things to be considered. But those were the facts in the abstract.

Ben and Leslie were hardly abstract, and Chris knew with as much certainty as anyone could know that no one was sleeping with anyone for the benefit of budgetary favors. He knew Ben to be the most conscientious of government employees. Ben would hardly let his personal feelings cloud his judgment with respect to his job. Not to mention, Chris had personally witnessed Ben standing up to Leslie on numerous occasions. When Ben was persuaded, it didn’t seem like favoritism—it simply seemed like Leslie had won, and that the city of Pawnee was better off for it.

He didn’t know Leslie as well, and in fact recalled the fact that Leslie had ulterior motives when she first persuaded Ann to go out with Chris all those months ago. But he chalked that up to her passion. Like Ben, she genuinely cared about being a phenomenal government employee.

In fact, their devotion to public service was probably what brought them together, it occurred to Chris, and it was kind of ironic that it was the same thing that was keeping them apart.

The bottom line was, they were both ethical people who could be trusted to carry out their jobs well, even if they happened to develop feelings for each other. No matter what, the people of Pawnee were better off having Ben and Leslie work for them.

It was a still a huge risk—because if something like that ever got out, there would be an appearance of impropriety and mismanagement, even if the actual mismanagement wasn’t there. But if it was only a matter of appearances, how much did that still matter?

Chris cared very much about appearances. He cared about people being happy with their government. He strongly disliked confrontational situations. He preferred to keep things orderly, uncomplicated, and above board.

But he also cared very much about Ben.

It was easy to say no to Ben when he asked about someone unspecific, someone whom Chris had assumed had been a passing attraction, not a … a … what do you even call it? Match. No wait—complement.

The yin to his yang, he thought suddenly, realizing it rang true.

Chris felt a pang in his gut, wondering if he’d even find his own yang, as weird as that sounded. And he didn’t think he could deny that to Ben.

He made up his mind.

\--

“The Indiana Little League Baseball Tournament is upon us, and Pawnee hasn’t hosted it in twenty years. So I would like you two to go to Indianapolis and state our case. Because you two are my dynamic duo.”

Chris noticed the way the brief hopeful glance that Ben flicked over at Leslie, and the way that without looking back at Ben, she seemed to light up from within.

This was going to work out great.

“Go team!”

You see, a matchmaker isn’t always someone who identifies two people with compatible qualities and introduces them to each other. Sometimes a matchmaker is someone who simply paves the way for two people who are meant to be together.

Chris wasn’t willing to change his rule outright—he still believed that in general, it was a good rule to have in place. And he didn’t want to let it be known that he was making an exception, either—that could make him look soft and open the door to all manner of inappropriate requests. So he wasn’t going to tell Ben what he should do. He was just going to push him in that direction and let nature take its course.

Also, he really did need his dynamic duo to bring the Little League tournament to Pawnee. It would be a huge economic boost for local businesses.

Hence, the road trip. A road trip meant time to get to know each other outside the office, hours spent talking on the road, maybe even a meal at a nice restaurant.

Ooo, he should suggest that.

"Ben, would you come in here?" Ben appeared in the doorway, and Chris was relieved that Ben was wearing a plain white shirt and dark pants, instead of one of his more hideously colored ensembles. Ben’s apparent color blindness was endearing—most days. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Ben spread his hands and looked down at his clothing in a way that was just slightly defensive. “Yes … obviously. It’s what I have on.”

“Good, good,” Chris said. "Here, why don’t you take my jacket? Take my tie too. I have extras in my office.”

“Uh …” Ben eyed the offered garments suspiciously.

“I think it’s important for you to make a good impression today. For … Pawnee.” Chris tried to convey with a pointed look that by “Pawnee,” he meant Leslie. Ben had practically invented that code word, hadn’t he?

(Ben, I’m so glad you’ve accepted the job! Pawnee is lucky to have you.

Yeah, Chris, I … just really like Pawnee. I really want to stay, and, you know, get to know Pawnee better.

Really, it was appalling that Chris hadn’t cracked the code sooner.)

Ben gave him an odd look and shrugged. “Okay. If it’s that important to you, I’ll stop at home to grab a jacket and tie.”

“Excellent! Now let me give you some restaurant recommendations.”

Ben looked at him blankly. “Restaurants?”

“Yes, you simply must take Leslie to dinner while you’re in the city. She hasn’t spent much time in Indianapolis, and there are simply some fantastic options. It would be an absolute travesty not to take her out afterward.”

Ben raised his eyebrows and frowned, in a way that looked like he was trying not to smile. “Okay, um … yeah, if you insist, I’ll take Leslie to dinner.”

Chris grinned and slapped Ben lightly on the back. “I know the perfect place! I’ll get you an address before you leave. And Ben? I have every confidence you two are going to be great.”

\--

In the late afternoon, Chris received a text from Ben: “Mission accomplished!” For the briefest instant he thought it meant that Ben had made his move on Leslie, and that Leslie had reciprocated.

But Ben might not even know that was part of the day’s mission. A moment later, the rest of the text arrived and clarified the situation: “We got the tournament.”

Right. Well, that was good news too. But Chris was worried that Ben wasn’t going to carry out the rest of the day’s plan. Ben could be such a stickler for rules, and normally Chris appreciated that about him, but in this he needed to look out for his own happiness. He sent the following message. “Congratulations. Together, you two are unstoppable.”

He just hoped that Ben would pick up on the barely hidden double meaning.

Unfortunately, for as many wonderful qualities as Ben had, confidence with women was not one of them. Usually Ben didn’t date unless Chris set him up with someone, or if someone literally threw herself at him. Even with Joanne, whom Ben had obviously liked, he’d never made a move, and it wasn’t until Chris had arranged a double date, under the pretense of having four tickets to the Indianapolis Indians, that the two had gotten together. And it had been Joanne who had ended the evening by asking Ben to dinner, not the other way around.

He was beyond cautious, and Chris wondered what had made him so. He suspected that somewhere in Ben’s past, maybe as far back as Minnesota, he had been badly burned for going after what he wanted. It was too bad, because if anyone deserved to have everything he wanted, it was Ben.

Chris had decided that this was important enough to bend his rules, and suddenly it seemed like Ben and Leslie getting together was the most important thing in the world. And he had to make sure for himself that it was happening.

Usually Chris biked or ran everywhere, and he had used a state vehicle for work travel, so he didn’t actually own a car. He just rented one when he needed it, and so that’s what he did tonight. He just hoped that Ben had at least taken his restaurant advice.

When he walked in, the maître d’ offered to get him a table, but over the half wall that separated the foyer from the dining area, he had already spotted Ben and Leslie sitting on the far side.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying of course, but Ben looked serious and intent, like he was in the very middle of telling her how he felt.

Chris’s heart swelled. Good for you, Ben, he cheered inwardly, feeling silly for driving all the way up here.

But Leslie didn’t look as happy as she should. She grimaced and swayed, then stood up abruptly and walked away. Chris didn’t know her as well, and he didn’t know what to make of that. Why would Leslie—or any woman, for that matter—not be thrilled for a chance to be with Ben?

Ben still hadn’t seen him. With Leslie gone, he put down his fork and raked his hands through his hair, looking nervous and keyed up.

It just now occurred to Chris that this might go wrong, resulting in not only Ben’s unhappiness but also an awkward work situation. It could be the end of the dynamic duo, in every sense. And he wasn’t sure yet if anything had gone wrong, but it looked like it was in danger of going off the rails, and he felt like he needed to intervene.

It suddenly occurred to him that maybe none of his coded messages had landed with Leslie—or Ben, for that matter. Maybe all they needed was a little more encouragement.

“Thank you, I see just who I’m looking for,” he told the maître d’ and set off to offer his assistance.

Ben didn’t look happy to see him. But that was often how Ben looked, so Chris never took it personally.

“Chris! This is a … surprise. What are you … doing here? I thought …” He sounded really flustered.

Chris smiled brightly. “Are you kidding? This is such an exciting night! I just couldn’t stay away.” He took a seat and picked up the bottle of wine. “Do you mind?”

“Um …” Ben looked quickly down the corridor down which Leslie had disappeared. “Leslie just went to make a phone call. She should be back in a moment.” He looked a little panicky, like he had really mixed feelings about that.

“So …” Chris said, leaning in conspiratorially. “How is it going?”

“Oh, um …” Ben’s eyes slid over to the corridor again, just for the briefest moment, but Chris saw it. He was a perceptive person. He noticed things like that.

He also noticed that at that moment, looking after Leslie, Ben seemed pretty unhappy. It was a good thing he was here to help him out.

Just then Leslie returned, looking a little stricken.

Chris greeted her cheerfully, trying to smooth things over. “When Ben told me you had won the bid, I was wildly ecstatic, and I had to come up here to celebrate with you,” he explained, then looked pointedly at Ben. “There is literally nothing in this world that you cannot do.”

Suddenly, Chris wished he didn’t use the word “literally” so much that it had lost its impact. Literally nothing they couldn’t do. Literally.

He didn’t think they were getting it. In fact, they both looked so awkward and uncomfortable, Chris suddenly felt the need to get everyone out of this stuffy restaurant and somewhere they could just enjoy themselves and remember how much they liked each other.

“So what’s the plan now? Long walk?” Ooo, he just had an idea! “Mini golf?” Perfect. He'd just make sure they were enjoying themselves, then gracefully bow out.

Except that Ben was blowing it. “I’ll probably just … shouldn’t we go back to Pawnee?”

No! The night couldn’t end yet. Not before Ben and Leslie had a chance to set things right with each other. “Nonsense! No reason to drive all the way back home. I’ve got a perfectly good condo right here in the city.”

Fortunately, he made the offer too good to refuse, even if he did feel a little weird about assigning them separate places to sleep. But it would have been presumptuous to suggest otherwise. He wasn’t about to take his efforts at matchmaking that far. That much was up to Ben.

\--

At his condo, Chris got Ben a change of clothes and blankets for the couch—all while wondering if Ben would even end up needing them—and showed Leslie how to work the universal remote, helpfully tuning it to Hallmark. They quickly changed it to something on the sci-fi channel, which didn’t look all that romantic, but okay—there was only so much that a matchmaker could do. At least they were watching a movie together, which was a date-like thing to do.

Chris politely excused himself and went off to bed, but he didn’t fall asleep right away, smiling to himself over a job well done.

Twenty minutes later, he really wanted to see how it was going. Also, he actually did have a very small bladder. He’d just be in the rec room for a second—it would be hardly any interruption at all.

As he explained the bladder situation apologetically, he was ecstatic that he'd happened upon a scene that appeared much better than the one at the restaurant. Before they noticed him, Ben and Leslie had been inching toward each other and smiling in a way that was highly suggestive of good things to come. Yay for them!

Still, the situation on the couch seemed delicate, and Chris wondered what he could do to keep the interruptions to a minimum—maybe eight bathroom trips over the course of the night, instead of twelve, to give them some extra space. He frowned at the prospect of not properly hydrating himself following half a glass of red wine, but thought that maybe for this, he could make that sacrifice.

He was almost disappointed he wouldn’t have to make that particular sacrifice. “Well, I’m going to go to bed,” Leslie said, slipping out without so much as a glance at Ben.

Ben must be devastated, and Chris could hardly abandon his friend at a time like this.

“You want to Boggle?”

As it turned out, Ben did not want to Boggle. Chris had the disturbing thought that if something didn’t happen soon to bring him and Leslie together, Ben might never want to Boggle again. And that was just unacceptable.

\--

Chris dropped the rental car off in the morning and rode back to Pawnee with Ben and Leslie, and he couldn't think of two people whom he would rather be on a road trip with. (Except for maybe Ann--he could not seem to get Ann off his mind lately.)

Chris tried to keep the mood light, making pleasant conversation and showing tremendous enthusiasm for Leslie’s extremely interesting audio selections.

But the two of them seemed immune to his efforts and sulked miserably in the front seat, barely interacting with each other. It was baffling—sure, sometimes Ben was prone to these sorts of moods, but what was going on with Leslie? He’d never seen her so taciturn, and it just didn’t make sense that she’d rebuff Ben like this since they seemed to have such a friendly bond ordinarily.

Was she just not attracted to Ben sexually? That didn’t make sense either—Ben was an extremely attractive man. Chris didn’t mind thinking so, since he was very secure in his own sexuality. (And really, who hadn’t had gay thoughts?)

Chris played some air banjo while puzzling over the situation. Something must have come between them last night, and he couldn’t think of what it might have been. What could have possibly kept these two obvious lovebirds from just making some sweet love already?

After dropping Leslie off at her house so she could change into some work clothes, Ben swung by his own place saying he wanted to grab a fresh shirt.

“Ben, can I give you a piece of advice?” Chris asked him as Ben put the car in park. He ignored the way Ben was glaring at him, wondering if maybe this morning all would have gone differently if Chris had simply thought to stock some coffee at his condo for guests. “Wear the gray shirt with the subtle stripes. It looks positively stunning with your skin tone.”

Ben narrowed his eyes and dropped his jaw a little, then shook his head and disappeared into the house. But when he came back, sure enough, he was wearing that nice-looking shirt, and he’d even paired it with a decent-looking tie.

It was just a shirt, but it somehow made Chris feel better about the whole situation. Maybe all was not lost after all.

Once they’d gotten into the office, Chris made a point of seeking out coffee, putting two sugars in it just how Ben liked. The other man softened just slightly toward him when he offered it. “Thanks, Chris.”

Chris smiled at him wistfully. “No problem, buddy. It’s the least I could do for a friend.”

By the end of the day, he had thought of one more thing he could do. It wasn’t much, but at this point, he was feeling like it was almost completely out of his hands. It’s not like he could pick them up and smush their faces together like a couple of dolls.

He thought of an excuse to summon Leslie to the office—receipts from the trip would do—and sent her an e-mail asking her to drop them off ASAP. Then he ducked into Ben’s office.

“I’m going to head out for my evening run early today. It’s supposed to rain later, and I want to seize the chance while I still can.”

“Okay,” Ben said simply and turned back to his computer screen, apparently indifferent to the compelling words “seize the chance” reverberating through the air.

“I won’t be back,” Chris continued. “I’m going to work from home for a while tonight to make up for the lost time.”

“Yup,” Ben said, not even moving his eyes from the screen this time.

“Leslie’s going to drop by,” Chris said, feeling satisfied when the mention of her name finally grabbed Ben’s attention.

“Oh?” The single syllable was uttered with determined casualness, but Chris could see the bit of hope jump into his eyes.

“She’s just dropping some receipts off. You can have her leave them in the office.”

“Right. Well, okay, um … thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Chris hesitated in the doorway, wondering if Ben would get it right this time. “Oh, Ben? About yesterday …”

Ben’s eyes darkened a little, but Chris forged on. “I just want you to keep in mind ... if at first you don’t succeed, you should keep trying, because there is literally no chance that you will not eventually succeed.” It was an old proverb, which Chris had improved upon slightly.

Ben looked back at him, a little confused and perturbed. “We succeeded. We got the tournament.”

“Yes, of course! It’s a wonderful turn of events. But Ben? Work isn’t everything.”

Ben narrowed his eyes just a little and answered him in that clipped voice that Chris recognized as the one he used when he was only pretending to take him seriously. “Okay. Got it, Chris. Good night! See you tomorrow.”

Reluctantly, Chris let him be. There was, after all, only so much he could do.

\--

The next morning, Chris arrived at the office to 8 to see a tall cup from the coffee shop sitting on his desk. He took off the lid and inhaled, the delightful scent of green tea wafting up into his lungs.

Curious, he walked over to Ben’s door to see him sitting behind his computer, looking wide awake and unusually tranquil. When he looked up to notice Chris, Ben greeted him with a genuine smile.

Chris grinned back. “What’s this pleasant surprise?” he asked, only half referring to the green tea.

“Oh … it’s nothing. You brought me coffee yesterday, and I guess I just wanted to return the favor. Sorry I wasn’t, you know, nicer to you.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Chris said, noticing how completely and uncharacteristically relaxed Ben seemed today. It was like every muscle in his body had found some sort of blissful release last night. “You seem different. Pawnee seems to be having a wonderful effect on you.”

Ben leaned back and rubbed the back of neck thoughtfully. “It is. I really like it here. It’s just an amazing city, and I think … I think it might be right for me.”

Chris resisted the urge to rush across the room and embrace him, instead simply saying, “That’s wonderful, Ben. I’m so glad.”

Then he returned to his own office before Ben could notice the gleam of happy tears that were springing to his eyes.

This was literally the best cup of green tea he had ever had in his entire life.


End file.
